


if it's different (it must be wise or something like that)

by ribcagedtart



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Getting Back Together, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:00:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27991149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribcagedtart/pseuds/ribcagedtart
Summary: They part in the midst of their third year of high school.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	if it's different (it must be wise or something like that)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written ages ago for a Sportsfest 2018 fill and I decided to edit it into my current style and have it up, I guess. Thanks for reading.

They part in the midst of their third year of high school.

The breakup wasn't easy, and for the longest time, Osamu thought that the simpler, less messy way would be to give in, to let this boy with his dark hair and sharp eyes peer into his heart again and put together what ought to be mended, but the feeling passes and Osamu seals his lips.

There should be nothing left, after all, even if Suna still slips half-eaten onigiri into his bag, expecting Osamu to finish them for him. He chooses not to say anything about it every time it happens, just calmly unwraps the foil around each piece and takes a small pleasure in listening to how the plastic crinkles like crushed leaves during the winds of autumn; it alleviates the silent bubble surrounding them by the littlest bit. 

When he brings the onigiri to his mouth, he savours the burst of vinegar and sour plum flooding his tongue, because food is food and wasting even the smallest crumb should be frowned upon. Osamu doesn't brush off the grains of rice clinging to his lips; doesn't acknowledge how Suna's eyes seem to burn on them.

(This will never be an indirect kiss, not anymore.)

What he does do is bow his head, expressing his thanks for the food, and watches Suna bow his in turn, stilted in formality. He leaves the gym, throwing the remaining litter in his hands over his shoulder into the bin beside the entrance, without ever looking back.

The _thump_ it makes is sort of satisfying.

And Osamu thinks, _that's that._

***

The first day after Osamu and Suna had gotten together, Atsumu had wrinkled his nose at the sight of their held hands, concealed beneath a loose towel as they took a break from running drills by sitting at the court benches, and proclaimed rather loudly, to Osamu's consternation: "Can't you have _better_ taste?"

"Tsumu," he said. Beside him Suna was grinning, all teeth and eyes flashing, like a prey watching its prospective meal dance and huff to its death; to him this was the best type of entertainment he could ever ask for and the fact that it was Atsumu over on the other end of it? Practically the icing on a very blonde cake.

"Tsumu," he said again, this time long-suffering because he didn't want Atsumu to kick up a ruckus and clue everyone else on the team in on his quietly budding new relationship. He dug his nails into Suna's hand for good measure, because it took two to tango, or, in this case, _antagonise_.

When Atsumu didn't argue or display any signs of his usual brand of pettiness, Osamu blinked and realised that his twin was staring, unflinchingly, right back at him, with a lip bitten and twisted underneath. The expression on his face was almost calculative, pensive even, but that all brushed away into nothing as he very casually strolled past their bench, bumping his shoulders against Suna's side.

"You'd better freaking make him happy," Atsumu muttered nonchalantly, like it was anything but a threat, and then he was off to terrorise Aran for serving practice.

Suna merely raised an eyebrow.

"That's about as much of a blessing you'll ever get from him," Osamu deigned to translate, and finally, relaxed against his boyfriend.

He only hummed in reply at Suna's answering _well, at least he cares_.

"He made you happy," Atsumu states two years on, after Osamu had walked home, alone, internally still reeling from the note Suna had left under his desk before the last bell: _this isn't working out._

"He did," Osamu agrees, a bit dazed by the sudden inquiry and how it lacked any sharpness; he'd expected Atsumu to be fuming, all ready to spit expletives over a certain middle blocker that had caught his brother's heart and then _crushed_ it, but it never comes.

All his twin does, instead, is open his arms and Osamu steps into them, their heads buried, in unison, against each other's shoulder.

All Atsumu says is "I've got you pudding".

And all Osamu says in return is a tired, muted "thanks".

***

When they graduate, it's spring and the sakura are falling.

Some of the girls in his class are crying, arms outflung with their scrolls gripped tight around each other, pink petals all caught up in their hair like little flower clips; the perfect still frame of an ever evolving youth tinged by melancholy. Most of the boys are clapping each other's backs and laughing, although at times, their expressions quiver, betraying the uncertainty towards their futures, but that's life.

It's theirs to navigate now and the future opens up like a maw, waiting to either sink or swallow them, probably.

But none of that is a part of Osamu's concerns right now, for when he digs into his bag to grab his phone for a group selfie, he finds a whole onigiri nestled inside the back; he grips it with the smallest amount of tightness in his heart and feels that it's time to let go.

(And he thinks he knows how.)

"You can't keep doing this," Osamu chides, once he finds Suna slinking against the gym doors later.

The other boy's head snaps up, as if he's been caught guilty, and Suna _should_ be; it was him who had broken things off first all those months ago, but then kept leaving little gifts for Osamu despite the rift he had clearly so wanted to make.

But Osamu isn't here to point out things that should have long become obvious by now, so he just stalks over and places the onigiri back into Suna's hands. Looking into his ex-boyfriend's eyes, he orders, softly but firm, "Eat it. Don't throw it away. If you do, I'll kick your ass, so."

He shrugs.

(What he's really trying to say is, _don't be a coward, you asshole._ )

"Okay." Suna swallows, gaze lowering into the distance behind Osamu. There's the slightest tremble to his fingers (still taped) and for once, he seems almost cowed-- by Osamu, of all people.

Osamu could laugh, but he doesn't.

Instead, he asks: "If you still like me that badly, why'd you even go?"

Suna doesn't reply, and Osamu honestly doesn't expect him to, yet he doesn't want any loose ends to continue hanging, so, he says, "You know how to get me if you change your mind."

With that, he waggles his phone in front of Suna's dumbstruck face and leaves him there, barely flushing and clearly flabbergasted. Atsumu joins him at the school gate, snickering, and Osamu rolls his eyes.

"How romantic."

"Shut up," he scoffs but does conceed a smile and feels his whole body that much lighter for it. He thinks he'll have to celebrate with a premium King Pudding.

***

Later that night, closer to an hour Osamu would have rather liked to spend dead to the world instead of trying to drown Atsumu's snoring with a deadly amount of pillows, his phone vibrates. A message from an all too familiar number pops up.

 _we haven't been here in ages_ it says, attached to a picture of an oden stall he used to frequent.

Osamu huffs. _it's a date then_ he types back, and well.

Warmth fills along the back of his throat.

That's that.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Daydream" by SuYou ft. manika.


End file.
